nighttime meetings with partners and constituents, other things…”
“Women?”
Carter’s smile and gesture were ambiguous. “In any event,” he said, “with the other drivers, the relationship was symbiotic. Dominic got good, presentable, inexpensive help, and then he placed that help with other people in the city who could help him. You want tickets to the Giants? The Warriors? The Niners? You want a parking ticket fixed? Or, more likely, a drug bust. You’d like the ear of your supervisor on a development issue?”
“But that wasn’t you? You weren’t in line for one of those jobs?”
“No. I was a lifer. I am a lifer. Except now, with him gone…” He spread his hands.
“And you’re concerned that someone might take that as a motive? That you wanted out?”
“Perhaps unwisely, I mentioned it to a few people. And I don’t really know if I did want that. What else would I do? What am I going to do now? But did I sometimes feel trapped? Yes. Might Dominic have heard about it and fired me? Perhaps. He didn’t tolerate disloyalty, even the hint of it. He might even have fired me on Tuesday.”
Hunt nodded. “Well, as motives go, I’d call that pretty weak. Even if anyone could prove it.”
“I agree. But my so-called alibis for both nights are also flimsy. I live alone and I was at home alone both nights. So, combined with my record, my race, the motive, the lack of alibi, and the fact that except for his killer, I was the last person to see him, the police-”
“I see what you’re saying.”
“Well, no, I’m not sure that you do, since I haven’t said it yet.”
Hunt waited.
“I’ve wanted to stay out of all of this to the extent that I could. Reward or no reward, I know how the police often go about their work. And I’m afraid-you see, it’s already happened to me once before-I’m afraid that they might find in me a path of least resistance. That’s the only reason I’ve decided to talk to you.”
“You know something.”
“Yes. And I only mention it with great reluctance because of everything I’ve told you about here today. I wanted you to understand me. If they don’t have someone else, there’s a likelihood they’re going to come knocking at my door.” He took a breath and held it, his lips again pursed and tight. “He fired Alicia Thorpe that morning.”
21
“Yeah, we’re sitting outside her place right now, hoping to talk to her,” Juhle said. “Got any idea where she might be?”
Hunt was in his car talking on his cell phone, which miraculously had a strong signal two floors down in the City Hall lot. After finishing up with Al Carter, he’d half jogged through the thickening drizzle, gotten to his car, and punched in Juhle’s number. “Sorry. I know where she was an hour ago, and that was here. But Ellen Como had her kicked out.”
“She could do that?”
“It was her party, Devin. She could do anything she wanted. It wasn’t very pretty.” He paused. “So what did you get?”
Juhle ran down the latest link in the chain that was apparently beginning to close around Alicia Thorpe. “At least,” Juhle concluded, “if it’s her scarf…”
“Why do you think it’s hers?”
“She’s the only female driver. The scarf’s in the limo. Hello? Anyway, at least it gives us something to ask her about. Not to mention Carter corroborating Ellen’s story that Dominic fired her. You believe him?”
“Yep.”
“On the very day? We got that right?”
“Tuesday morning.”
“Did Carter change his story, then, about who Como was going to see?”
“No. He didn’t know that. Dominic said he was meeting an old friend and didn’t go into it. In truth, it might not have been Alicia. But Carter thought it might have been. So how long before you find out about the semen? If it was Como’s.”
“As opposed to whose?”
“I don’t know, Dev. Maybe as opposed to any other guy who’d ever been in the limo getting some head from somebody wearing a scarf. Where’d you find it in the limo, anyway? The scarf?”
“Under the backseat. Why?”
“Just trying to picture the scenario that gets Dominic into the backseat.”
“That’s where people sit in limos, Wyatt.”
“Yeah, mostly, I know. Except I don’t think Como did. I read that somewhere. Or saw his picture. Something, maybe both. He prided himself on being a regular guy, sitting in the passenger seat up front. I’m sure of that.”
“And what’s that mean?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. So how long?”
“How long what?”
“Before you know the semen was Dominic’s.”
“DNA? About the same as the DNA on the tire iron. Round it off to four days, maybe six, multiply by the phase of the moon, divide by, I don’t know, let’s say fourteen. It’s anybody’s guess. But after today, we may not need it until the trial. We’ll see.”
“You think you’re near an arrest?”
“We’ll see.”
“It would be great if you could say something else besides ‘We’ll see.’ ”
“It would, I know.”
“Well, keep me in the loop.”
“We’ll see.” Juhle’s tone was distinctly ironic. “Hey, this could be her. Gotta run.” And he broke off the connection.
Alicia pulled up to the curb outside the house where she rented her basement room and sat unmoving, staring straight ahead, in the driver’s seat with the motor running, her hands locked onto the steering wheel. She had her lights on and the windshield wipers swished back and forth intermittently.
“What’s she doing?” Juhle asked.
“I don’t know. Waiting for her favorite song to end? Meditating?”
Juhle gave her a full minute before his patience ran out. He got out of his own car, crossed the street, came up behind her, and knocked on the driver’s side window.
Startled, Alicia jerked her hands away from the wheel and her head toward Juhle, who wore a practiced professional expression and held his badge open next to the window.
After a brief moment of what he took to be confusion, she moved one hand over to the door and the window came down.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Thorpe. Inspector Juhle, you may remember. I wonder if we could ask you just a few more questions?”
She dropped her head before lifting it back up again. Then she dredged half a smile from somewhere, said, “Sure,” grabbed her purse, rolled up the window, and pushed open the door.
By this time, Russo had joined Juhle, and now the three of them marched across the lawn and down the side path that led to the entrance to her room in the back. The wind wasn’t as strong as it had been downtown, although the mist and drizzle out here had intensified into true rain, falling straight down on them.
It didn’t make any of them walk any more quickly.
When they got inside with the door closed behind them, Alicia hit the lights and adjusted the thermostat, then turned. “I’m just going to throw on a pullover, if that’s okay.” She crossed the room and took down a bright green knitted sweater that was hanging from a peg on the opposite wall, and brought it over her head. Coming back
